In the interest of record-keeping, I'm back to note that we lost Miss Truvy L'il Pouf this weekend. Yes, Truvy -- barely two years old, although no longer the tiny little Butterbean she was when SlaveToFuzzy dispatched me to rescue a "hamster" from the local dog shelter. She was a good girl, quiet and mostly self-sufficient, although she did like playing with Rosalynn occasionally. And Sunday morning she was just dead. I had a necropsy done and it shows heart disease. The vet also noted that her stomach was full, which I'm actually finding very comforting, because it means she wasn't even feeling sick enough to be picky at dinner time. She ate well, I turned off the lights for bed, and she... turned off the lights.

I don't know if Photobucket will even let me upload new pictures, so here's one from back on page 4 when I discovered this little miracle of pouf and was worried that she might have a penis. :)

Another side-story of some humor: I never saw Truvy bully anybody, although she did quietly get the best spots a lot of the time, even better than Rosalynn (who is an overt bully!). But I did see Truvy manage Ferguson, who was deeply interested in her tufty hair. He presented Cici as a portfolio example of his good work keeping long hair short and evenly trimmed. He tried with some regularity, too: I would often find green smears on Truvy's flanks. But they'd be smears on long tufts of hair. I saw her nose him away a couple of times. She never bit or attacked or even rumbled. She just sort of ... DOMINATED him away from her hair at all times. And therefore as of Saturday afternoon she still had curls, kept shortish only by *my* attentions (which I did because she got dreadlocky so fast and wasn't a fan of combing, so a periodic shearing worked best for us). She also had two lovely long shoulder tufts in the nature of a texel. But obviously, by the time I collected her remains on Sunday, she had been given a very professional and tidy haircut, top to bottom. And I'm pretty sure that if we'd examined the contents of Ferguson's stomach, it would have been 100% hair!

Aww, geez, AldenM1. I'm so VERY sorry about her loss. I fell in love on day 1 of seeing her picture. It sounds like she had inner beauty & strength to go along with her outer cuteness. Heart disease at 2 years of age. I hate that we lose our little loved ones so early.

I am truly sorry for your lost. A comfort that she went in her sleep and didn't suffer. Think of her popcorning in paradise and munching on green grass. RIP in Peace little! Another angel got her wings. Sending big hugs.

I hate that it feels like I'm just checking in to report deaths, but... we lost VickieWhiskers last night.

VW was diagnosed with pulmonary edema and heart disease in February of 2016. She has been on three meds and painkillers since. She has lived alone in the swank hospice cage since Cookie died last year, and she absolutely did not mind. I'm extravagant with my dying pets, so she's been subsisting on a diet mostly of organic baby food for that entire time too. She lost over 500g in that time, but never lost her sass -- bar-chewing and even wheeking until just a month or so ago. And even as I contemplated how much more weight she could lose before she just vanished entirely, she was eating and bright-eyed and moving around. Just four days ago she chided me for taking too long to clean her cage, and then did the normal inspection routine to make sure I'd put everything back properly. I kept telling her to let me know when she was ready to go; it just took her 28 months to do so.

She stopped eating, basically, two days ago. A half-hearted nibble here and there but nothing else. I did get about 5ml of Critical Care into her last night, and 5ml of water, just because I know how dehydration can feel crappy. But I wasn't going to fight her to get more in there because there just so obviously wasn't going to be a point. So I quit after that last syringe of water, told her we were done, and told her that she could choose how she wanted to leave, and that if she was still around in the morning I'd help out. She wasn't. She always, always did her own thing, and I'm grateful to her for doing this one too.

I am so sorry you lost Vickie-Whiskers. RIP little one! No more pain forever young. Munch on the green grass and now popcorn amongst the clouds! Reunited with Miss Truvy L'il Pouf NEVER to be parted! Together forever! Sending big hugs to you all!